


Domesticity

by azurrys



Category: Infinite (Band), K-pop
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1854649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurrys/pseuds/azurrys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Breathing in, he remembers everything he loves about this—warm sheets and laughter and the way Sungyeol smiles, half-asleep, before leaning over to kiss him.</i>
</p><p>Moments in Woohyun and Sungyeol’s relationship. AU. [Drabble series]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. who is the big spoon/little spoon

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from [Livejournal](http://azurrys.livejournal.com/1827.html), except now there are actual chapter breaks! /gasp
> 
> Anyway, this was written as a prompt response to the [domesticity meme](http://ratherembarrassing.tumblr.com/post/13710797073/the-meme-of-domesticity) as found on Tumblr, hence the uncreative title. While the meme itself is incomplete, all drabbles are standalone. That said, though, I am still working on completing it... sort of.

**who is the big spoon/little spoon**  
“Sungyeol, we should get cleaned up.”

Sungyeol shifts behind him, making a vague noise that could be anything from a protest to an agreement. It’s decidedly unhelpful, and Woohyun sighs. Sungyeol is never particularly articulate after they’ve had sex. “ _Sungyeol_. Let’s go take a shower.”

“Later,” Sungyeol mumbles into the pillow, reaching over. Woohyun’s breath catches as Sungyeol wraps an arm around him from behind, burying his nose in Woohyun’s hair. “C’mon, a nap won’t kill us.”

“Neither would cleaning up,” Woohyun retorts, but there’s no real heat to it. Sungyeol is sticky and sweaty and Woohyun thinks that should probably be really, really unpleasant—except it’s Sungyeol, and he’s trailing lazy hands over Woohyun’s chest, making soft appreciative sounds. It still surprises Woohyun sometimes how cuddly Sungyeol gets after sex, especially considering he’s not particularly tactile most days. Sighing again, Woohyun leans back into Sungyeol and slides a hand over his.

He’s going to regret this in the morning, when they wake up and Sungyeol’s come has dried on his back and their sheets _stink_ , plus Sungyeol will probably wake him up in the middle of the night by tipping him off the bed accidentally while trying to untangle himself (Woohyun knows this from experience). But for now, Sungyeol’s nuzzling his scalp, lazily content, while he toys with Woohyun’s fingers.

Sungyeol’s right; a nap won’t hurt. Woohyun closes his eyes, relaxing into Sungyeol’s touch. It’s a quiet moment, and Woohyun finds that he loves these moments just as much as the ones they share normally, filled with banter and teasing and Sungyeol’s laughter.

(They’ll have to do laundry again soon, Woohyun thinks fleetingly.)


	2. their favourite non-sexual activity

**their favourite non-sexual activity**  
Woohyun puts another plate into the drier, picking up the next one from the stack in the sink as Sungyeol wanders around the kitchen being his usual unhelpful self (admittedly, the last time he tried to wash the plates with Woohyun, Woohyun had gotten so horrified at his opinion of a ‘clean’ plate that he’d banned him from all dishwashing until further notice). “Have you turned on the heater yet?” he asks idly.

“Yeah, I have.” Sungyeol walks over, peering inquisitively over Woohyun’s shoulder. “How much longer is this going to take?”

“Awhile?” Woohyun answers dryly. “It’s two days’ worth of plates.” He wanted to wash them yesterday, but Sungyeol was—distracting.

Sungyeol groans exaggeratedly, and Woohyun rolls his eyes. “Can’t we just leave them? This is taking forever.”

“Hell no. Do you want me to spend the rest of tomorrow night washing plates?” Woohyun sticks another plate into the drier. “Anyway, why are you so impatient? Can’t you find your own entertainment while I’m occupied?”

Sungyeol snorts. “ _Occupied_. You make it sound like the dishes are so important.” Sungyeol slings an arm around his shoulders, dragging Woohyun closer and almost making him drop the plate. Woohyun’s annoyed retort is on the tip of his tongue, but Sungyeol continues, “I just wanted to remind you that Sunggyu-hyung’s birthday is next week.”

“I know that, and?” Woohyun raises an eyebrow. “Are you dying to go shopping or something?”

“No,” Sungyeol answers, glaring at Woohyun. “God, you’re so dense. It’s his birthday! Don’t tell me you seriously forgot that we planned—”

“Oh, right!” Woohyun puts the plate down, looking over at Sungyeol. “But it’s next week. Didn’t we decide on the toothpaste, anyway?”

“Yeah, we did. But I just had this awesome idea.” Sungyeol grins, leaning closer. “Screw the dishes. Let’s go have a conference.” He unsubtly tightens the arm he has around Woohyun’s shoulder.

Woohyun stares at Sungyeol. He’s looking at Woohyun so intently it would be kind of hot if they weren’t just discussing their latest prank and his hands weren’t covered in soap suds. As it is, he ends up focusing on other things, like the way Sungyeol’s mouth is just barely pouting (he probably doesn’t even notice he’s doing it), or how long his eyelashes are, or the look in his eyes that’s absolutely certain Woohyun won’t say no. Woohyun can’t help smirking a little when he notices that last one, turning on the tap again to wash his hands.

“We can have a conference while I do the dishes, because I don’t want to do three days’ worth tomorrow and our sink can’t hold that many dishes anyway.”

He always loves thwarting Sungyeol.

“ _What_?” Sungyeol exclaims in disbelief when Woohyun actually does pick up the abandoned plate and starts scrubbing it again. “Seriously, Woohyun? Do you actually like doing the dishes or something?”

Woohyun snorts. “No, not really. But you’re not going to do them—and in fact I would really like it if you stayed far, far away from them—and someone’s going to have to do it.” Honestly, who liked doing dishes?

“But you’re saying no to a _conference_ in favour of washing dishes.” Sungyeol emphasises _conference_ , though not without reason—while their conferences generally do involve plenty of discussion and planning, they usually devolve into a lot more touching after awhile (though not always much less talking, because Woohyun likes bantering with Sungyeol as much as he enjoys having sex with him). “I can’t believe you. Are you for real?”

“Yes, I am,” Woohyun deadpans. “Take it or leave it. Or just wait until I finish the dishes off—it won’t take that long.”

“You’re such a housewife sometimes. Honestly, who cares if there’s a stain or two on a plate? We’re the only ones who use them on a daily basis, and even among our possible guests the only person who would really complain is Myungsoo—can you imagine Dongwoo-hyung noticing whether his plate has a stain or not?” Sungyeol complains.

“You’re such a slob. Not everyone’s like you, Yeol,” Woohyun says seriously.

“Yeah, there are people like you who insist on washing every plate until it glitters, like you’re in an ad or something. Seriously! Nobody cares! Let’s just—”

Woohyun cuts Sungyeol off with a kiss, because that’s the best way to shut him up. It’s a little annoying how he has to crane his neck to do that, but soon Sungyeol’s sinking a hand into his hair and holding him in place and it doesn’t matter. “Your complaints,” Woohyun says a little breathlessly when they pull apart, “are only going to make me take longer. But if you really want that conference—”

“Don’t kid me, Nam Woohyun, you want it just as much as me. Don’t pretend you’re humouring me.” Sungyeol leans in. “So, anyway. Bedroom?”

Woohyun glances at the stack of plates briefly—he’s already washed about half of them, really. It actually hasn’t been all that annoying either, although of course there are way more dishes to wash now than when he lived alone. But although living with Sungyeol means dozens more chores—Woohyun wouldn’t exchange this for anything. What would life be if he didn’t get to snark at Sungyeol?

Well—he’s already washed about a day’s worth, so after tomorrow, there’ll be two days’ worth again. Woohyun supposes he can live with that. “Bedroom,” he concedes. “So what’s this great idea you have for Sunggyu-hyung’s birthday?”

Sungyeol grins victoriously, eyes bright as he drags Woohyun away from the sink before he can change his mind. “It’s awesome. Just wait, you’re going to die when I tell you. It’s even better than what we came up with for Dongwoo’s birthday prank.”

Woohyun snorts. “That’s a big assumption.”

“Don’t look down on me,” Sungyeol scoffs, pulling Woohyun out of the kitchen and promptly closing the door. “I’m just that awesome, and you’re going to agree with me once I tell you.”

“Yeah, so tell me already.” Woohyun leads the way to their bedroom.

In the end, chores really can’t match up to this.


	3. who uses all the hot water in the morning

**who uses all the hot water in the morning**  
“Woohyun, get up.”

Sungyeol’s voice is really muffled and kind of unintelligible. Woohyun groans when he feels Sungyeol getting out of bed, but can’t be bothered to move. “Two minutes,” he mumbles, burying his face in the pillow. How the hell does Sungyeol wake up so fast?

“Just get your ass out of bed. I’m going to shower.” Woohyun hears Sungyeol padding sleepily over to the bathroom, swearing as he bumps against something. He stirs a little, opening his eyes, but Sungyeol’s just absently rubbing his elbow, so he figures it can’t be too severe. He closes his eyes again, sighing. After a moment, he hears water running in the bathroom.

He figures he should probably get out of bed soon, but he can’t be bothered—it’s warm and comfy and the sheets smell like Sungyeol. Too soon, though, he hears the sound of water being turned off, and Sungyeol shuffling around in the bathroom as he gets dressed.

“What the hell, you’re still in bed?” Sungyeol sounds mostly amused, and Woohyun cracks an eye open, ostensibly to glare at him—but shit, wait, he didn’t actually get dressed. He’s just wearing a towel around his waist. What the hell? “Get out, lazy ass. I didn’t think you’d actually stay in bed for so long.”

“Why are you not wearing a shirt?” Woohyun mumbles, slowly sitting up. He also notices that Sungyeol’s hair is dripping, a trail of water snaking down his neck and chest and—damn. What the fuck is Sungyeol trying to do, drive him crazy? It’s too early in the morning for this.

“Because I’m still wet, idiot.” Sungyeol rakes a hand through his hair, scattering water droplets over the floor. Woohyun finally struggles out of bed, unable to resist pulling Sungyeol down for a kiss. Sungyeol’s surprisingly receptive—doesn’t even complain about his morning breath or anything—but Woohyun soon pulls away, beginning to feel the need to actually get clean nag at him.

“I should shower,” he says reluctantly, casting another glance at Sungyeol’s bare torso. “Also, everyone’s entitled to sleep in on a weekend. You just wake up insanely—inhumanly fast.” Sungyeol’s never that fast about waking up when he actually needs to get somewhere. It’s only on days like these when he has absolutely no obligations that he seems perfectly willing to get out of bed.

Sungyeol just grins in reply, teasingly patting Woohyun’s shoulder and leaving a wet handprint on his shirt. “Well, if you want to keep up with my pace, you could just brush your teeth and come out again. You’re going to have to take another shower soon anyway…”

“No, thanks, I’d rather clean up.” As tempting as Sungyeol is, Woohyun hates not taking a shower in the morning—and anyway, Sungyeol will still be waiting for him when he’s done. They have a whole weekend ahead of them. “Just give me a moment. Go… get dressed or something.”

“You sure I should bother?” Sungyeol calls over his shoulder, and Woohyun rolls his eyes, not bothering to dignify that with a reply. (The thought of Sungyeol waiting around in nothing but his towel is kind of hot.)

Woohyun stumbles into the shower after brushing his teeth, flinching at the initial coldness of the water. He jerks out of its reach, poking at the stream of water every now and then while he waits for it to heat up.

But it doesn’t. And it doesn’t. Before long, Woohyun quickly realises what that means.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he swears aloud, and pokes his head out of the shower box. “Lee Sungyeol, get back in here! You used up all the hot water again!”

The only answer he gets is a laugh, and Woohyun swears again, ducking under the cold water with a wince. He’s so getting his revenge on Sungyeol for this.


	4. what they order from take out

**what they order from take out**  
Woohyun’s ready to fall over by the time he gets the door open. He’s _tired_ , damn it, but tonight’s his night for dinner—and he promised Sungyeol he would make it when they met for lunch. He’d felt sure he could clear up all the problems that cropped up at work that morning by dinner and come home in time to make Sungyeol something really good. Woohyun was damn good at his job, and he knew he could get it done.

He did. He also had not counted on his boss appearing and suddenly leaving him with a crapfuckington of new work and a really, really, really annoying (and new, she had to be new) personal assistant to ‘help’ him, who incidentally couldn’t understand _I’m taken, thank you_ to save her life.

Woohyun mostly likes his job—he doesn’t adore crunching numbers, but he gets paid pretty well and he has regular working hours. Mostly. Except on days like today when he suddenly gets swamped. It’s almost eight and he has no idea how he’s going to prepare a good meal in an hour.

“I’m home,” he says out of sheer routine when he closes the door, resisting the urge to fall against it and close his eyes for a moment. He knows it’s silly to tell an empty apartment he’s home, but it’s something that living with another person has conditioned him into—

“Hey. Welcome back.”

Woohyun drops his briefcase on his foot at the reply (and yelps in a really undignified way he’d prefer not to admit to) and when he turns around, the first thing he sees is Sungyeol cackling at him unsympathetically. “Oh my god, Sungyeol, shut up,” Woohyun growls, and almost pitches the briefcase at him before a more important matter strikes him. “Wait. What are you even doing home? You work until nine on Wednesdays.”

“I got Niel to take over my shift. He owes me one from when he wanted to take that emergency make-up test.” Sungyeol heaves a huge sigh. “I texted you about it, came home at six feeling sure you’d be home soon since you start dinner around then—and found your phone on the kitchen counter.” He shoves it at Woohyun, who stares it blankly for a moment before taking it. His phone. Right. Maybe that was why his boss’s appearance seemed so… sudden. “So I waited instead. And then,” Sungyeol went on accusingly, pointing a dramatic finger at Woohyun, “you didn’t turn up! Until now, and it’s eight! Do you know how worried I got? I almost called your boss!”

Woohyun opens his mouth to say something to the effect of _oh my god please don’t ever call my boss I want to keep my job_ —but he notices the hard set to Sungyeol’s jaw that says more than his dramatics ever will. “…Sorry,” he finally says, and Sungyeol is obviously thrown off by the lacking retort for a moment. “Um. For not telling you, I mean. I didn’t know you were waiting.”

Sungyeol glares at him half-heartedly, and Woohyun belatedly realises he was probably after one of their usual teasing arguments to distract himself from his worry. That’s always how they’ve dealt with being worried about the other. Maybe he should’ve said what he originally meant to after all. Woohyun sighs again, shucking his coat carelessly and raking a hand through his hair. He isn’t doing anything right today.

“Hey.” Sungyeol’s voice is a little quieter now, and the next thing Woohyun knows, he’s being swept up and his nose is pressed to Sungyeol’s neck, Sungyeol’s hand warm on his back. “Is everything okay? Something go wrong at work?”

“What else if not that?” Woohyun mumbles into Sungyeol’s neck, relaxing slightly. Sungyeol mostly smells of body wash with a hint of skin, but it’s strangely comforting. “I got swamped by work. And I was wondering what to make for dinner that I could finish in an hour.”

Sungyeol makes a vaguely unimpressed snort. “Instant ramyun.”

Woohyun would glare at him if he could, but he can’t, so he settles for shoving an elbow in Sungyeol’s direction. “I said it would be good. Instant ramyun is not ‘good’.”

“It’s good. It’s really good stuff, I don’t think we could survive without it.”

“It’s an emergency thing, not a real meal.” Woohyun sighs, giving up the case. They could probably debate the topic for an hour straight (though Sungyeol has a point when he says they wouldn’t survive without it), but that wouldn’t cook dinner. “But whatever. If you don’t mind waiting, I was thinking of cooking fried rice—”

“Oh, come on, Woohyun. Cooking? Let’s order take-out.” Sungyeol draws back to lay a hand on Woohyun’s shoulder, his typical way of indicating that he’s had enough of cuddling but he knows that Woohyun still wants to be touched. It’s so Sungyeol that it makes Woohyun’s chest ache. “I vote pizza. Any objections?”

Woohyun breathes out a laugh, a smile quirking at his lips. “None. I always say you’re a man after my own heart.”

“The other way round, you mean.” Sungyeol’s already whipping out his phone, dialing the pizza hotline. It probably says a lot about their eating habits (no matter how often Woohyun tries to cook, there are always those days) that he has it memorised.

“We really need to vary out take-out selection beyond fast food, bad Chinese, and the fried rice place opposite,” Woohyun says, but Sungyeol just shrugs vaguely in return. 

“We probably should, but in the meantime, you can’t go wrong with pizza.”

Woohyun has to concede to that point. Pizza’s never failed them before.

“Extra olives today,” he adds, when Sungyeol starts placing the order. Sungyeol gives him a look, one that says _when do you not want extra olives?_ but adds it into the order anyway.

Woohyun pulls Sungyeol in for a kiss when he’s done, hand clenched tightly in Sungyeol’s shirt. It’s slow, without the rushed heat that usually accompanies it, but Woohyun finds that he enjoys it just as much. “I’ll make dinner this weekend,” he promises. “And it’ll be good.”

“Just dinner?” Sungyeol grins. “You owe me lunch too, to replace today. Or you can just make me waffles for breakfast on Saturday to make up.”

“You’re always asking for waffles.” Not that Woohyun minds at all. He minds even less when Sungyeol loosens his tie for him and drags him in for another kiss. “Chocolate or normal?”

“Both. I want at least three waffles. Maybe four. Or five? Can you make me five?” Sungyeol punctuates his words with kisses, hands sliding over Woohyun’s chest. Woohyun shivers under his touch, pulling him closer.

“Of course I can, but you always quit halfway through the fourth and leave it for me to finish.” His breath hitches when Sungyeol starts unbuttoning his shirt, pressing him against the door. “Four. I’ll make you four and— _shit_ —you can take some of mine of you want more. Sungyeol, shouldn’t we at least wait for the delivery man? We should stop traumatising every single person who— _fuck_ —delivers our take-out.”

“I don’t care. Do you?” Sungyeol mouths at Woohyun’s collarbone again, and it feels really fucking good.

Anyway, Sungyeol’s right. He really doesn’t care either.


End file.
